Fairy Warts Rewrite
by Isangtao
Summary: Seven-year old Harry Potter finds himself transported to a world of magic and mystery. Rewrite of Fairy Warts.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Fairy Tail, Pokemon, Treasure Island, and any other franchise or series that you might recognize is not my own.

**Fairy Warts Rewrite**

**Chapter 1**

-Chapter Start-

_Regarding the White Flash Incident_

_ No one is completely sure what caused the White Flash; an incredibly bright flash of light that engulfed a village in England three years ago, leaving nothing behind and killing seventeen families. Some say that it is the work of extraterrestrials, others insist that it is a secret government experiment, and there are those who believe it is of divine origin. To date, the most accepted theory among the scientific community is that it is a rift in the fabric of space and time, though the proponents of the idea admit that even they do not know how it was done nor why the incident was accompanied by a flash of light. To this day, scientists are still trying to unlock the mystery of this strange phenomenon and hope that, at least until they can get further insight, nothing like the White Flash ever happens again._

_-Excerpt from Clock Magazine during the third year anniversary of the White Flash Incident._

-Elsewhere-

Harry Potter ran though the streets. His clothes, which was an old school uniform that Dudley grew out of, were covered in mud and torn in places. His bag, also something Dudley grew out of, had its sling threatening to fall off. His glasses, the only thing that Harry owned that wasn't originally Dudley's, were taped again for the thirteenth time. Dudley and his gang had thought it might be a fun idea to beat him up and lock him inside a broom closet. It had taken Harry four hours and a passing janitor to finally get out of the closet.

_'Uncle Vernon is going to kill me for this,' _he thought. No matter how many times he tried to convince his aunt and uncle that his injuries were the result of Dudley bullying him, they seemed to think that their son could do no wrong. The most Dudley had gotten as a punishment was a light scolding that he promptly threw a tantrum to, and he was never punished again after that. It wasn't that Harry hated his aunt and uncle, most of the time they act as if he doesn't exist, which he was grateful for, and since he liked cooking, kitchen duty didn't seem like a punishment. But as it was, Harry longed to have a better life, where he doesn't have to live in fear of Dudley and where he can do whatever he wants without being scolded for it.

He rounded a corner, and was suddenly blinded by a very bright light. Harry could feel himself being lost in the brightness, as if his very soul was being ripped out of his body, returned to it, and ripped out again. He felt very light, like he was floating in the vastness of space and never coming back. It wasn't comfortable, not in the least, but it wasn't painful either, like being outside on a hot summer day. Harry dimly became aware that his consciousness was slowly fading, and he closed his eyes.

_'Maybe I won't have to face Uncle Vernon after all,'_ he wondered, and the world faded to black.

-Elsewhere-

Dumbledore jumped when alarms suddenly started blaring from his office. He checked for the source of the noise, and found, to his horror, that it came from a piece of parchment that he used to observe Harry Potter. The paper would display on screen Harry's health condition and relative location from his relation's house. Harry's health was represented by a bar that showed his well-being in comparison to that of a normal, healthy seven-year old, while his location is featured as a circle with and a red and white dot inside it. The red dot represented his relation's house while the white dot stands in for Harry. The circle comes with a map so that Dumbledore would be able to pinpoint Harry's exact location.

The health bar stood at three fourths full, meaning that Harry was relatively well-fed and cared for, if a but undernourished. Dumbledore made sure to send letters every now and then to Harry's relations to ensure that they do not do anything drastic, and so he was confident that it was not the source of the alarm. He checked the location monitor, and his eyes widened when he saw that the white dot has disappeared.

_'This is impossible' _he thought. The map covers the entire globe, there was literally no place on earth that Harry could hide from that the map would not be able find him. And yet here it was, unable to locate a seven-year old with no magical training.

Dumbledore collapsed on his chair, reaching for a flask of whiskey. He looked at the health bar again, smiling slightly when he saw that Harry was unharmed, wherever he was. He would have to find a way to track him down, but right now he needed a drink.

-Elsewhere-

"Draco, come here for a moment."

"Yes father."

Draco Malfoy gratefully stood up from where he was reading a book on the history of magic, a topic so incredibly boring he almost fell asleep ten minutes into the first chapter. It was only the images of goblins fighting wizards, wizards fighting other wizards, and other magical creatures tearing wizards apart that kept him going, and he learned more from the captions underneath the pictures than from the book itself.

Lucius Malfoy wrinkled his nose. He and his wife had argued over the merits and demerits of the decision he was about to impart to Draco. He, of course, maintained that Draco does not need anything of the sort and it would only distract him from his studies. Narcissa on the other hand insisted that her son needs a friend and since Lucius had strictly regulated Draco's contact with humans his own age, it would definitely help in making Draco a more well-rounded individual. In the end Narcissa won the debate and here he was, about to lose the bet that he had with his office mates while Narcissa won hers.

"Your mother and I have come to a decision Draco." Draco gulped as he stood in front of his father, wondering what he had done to deserve the kind of punishment he was about to be given. Lucius took something from his pocket, and Draco flinched at what he thought was his father's wand about to curse him. Instead he felt his hands being forced open and something small and furry being put on it. Draco looked down, and he saw a small, yellow-black mouse creature with big ears, black tail, and pink cheeks staring up at him. He looked curiously at his father, who only nodded in response.

"We have decided to give you a pet, as a reward for your good behavior. I hope you take good care of it." he said. The creature, in turn, smiled at Draco and curled into a ball. Draco's heart melted at the sight.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It is a Pichu, a very rare creature found only in Asia. They can store electricity in their cheeks and their primary diet is berries. I am sure your book on magical creatures will have more detail."

Pichu had decided that Draco's hand was not comfortable enough, and scrambled up his arm and shoulders ("hey, that tickles!"), climbed up his neck, up on his head, and stayed there. It was a really weird feeling, having a mouse use your head as its bed, but Draco was happy all the same. His parents trusted him enough to shoulder him with this responsibility, and he made a new friend. He would have to read up all about Pichu so he can take good care of it, and maybe he could convince his mother to let him come with her to Diagon Alley to ask the pet shopkeepers for tips, but right now, he had another matter to attend to.

"You need a name, but what shall I call you?" he said. Draco looked up expectantly at his father, who gave him a look that said "figure it out yourself" and walked away. In need of inspiration, he turned to his open history book. He skimmed the pages in the hopes that something would stand out. Nothing. Draco set the book down and looked around the room. His eyes fell on an old storybook his mother had gotten him for his birthday when he was two years old. Making sure the Pichu was still on his head, Draco picked up the book. It was entitled Shanghai Noon, which was about a Chinese wizard to went to America to find his princess. The wizard met up with a quirky squib named Roy O'Bannon and the two went on many adventures together. Despite the wizard being the hero of the story, it was the inherently funny Roy whose name Draco remembered.

"I think I'll call you Roy, what do you think?" he asked his pet. The reply was a happy "chu!" followed by a jolt of electricity.

When Draco regained his senses later, he saw Pichu looking at him worriedly.

"I'm okay," he said, to which Pichu sighed visibly. Draco stood and picked Pichu up again. "Come on Roy, let's go get you some berries." Roy jumped up on his master's his head happily as he and Draco headed for the kitchen.

-Elsewhere-

_Dear Minister Fudge,_

_Lucius has given Draco the Pichu, and he did not refuse the offer. More importantly, he is quite happy about it. I expect you with the one hundred Galleons you owe me from our bet when I return to the Ministry._

_In your face,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

-Elsewhere-

_Dear Macnair,_

_Damn you._

_Sincerely,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

-Elsewhere-

"_Give me the child, and I might spare your life, then again, maybe not."_

"_No, leave Harry alone! Reducto!"_

"_A worthy effort, but futile in the end. You will die in vain with your husband, Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Harry...forgive me..."_

"_Foolish woman, her sacrifice proved worthless in the end. You, Harry Potter, will die by my hand tonight. Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry shot awake, breathing heavily. He put a hand on his head and another on his heart to calm himself. It was that dream again. Every one in a while, Harry would dream of disembodied voices, always saying the same thing over and over, until they were silenced by a vivid green light. Another disembodied voice would surface, followed by more green light, and then the dream would end. Harry wasn't sure if they were memories or apparitions or visions of the future, but he sincerely hoped it was the latter. He had seen people do fortune telling on TV and a part of him thought it would be cool if he could do it himself.

He slapped his cheeks to wake himself, and he finally noticed that he wasn't in his cupboard under the stairs. He was in a small, sparsely furnished room with a single circular window on the right. Aside from the bed, there was a small cabinet directly in front of him, a table with a flower pot on top on a corner of the room, an oval mat near the door that had a window on it, and several candle stands. He also noted, to his surprise, the entire room was rocking, as if it were a baby being sang to sleep by its mother.

There were no other occupants in the room but him, though Harry could hear sounds of humming outside, and the smell of cooking permeated the air. Harry saw a pair of flip-flops on the foot of the bed, his shoes nowhere to be found. Cautiously, he lowered himself off the bed and put on the slippers. Silently, he went to the door and opened it as quietly as he could. Harry saw a one legged man crouched beside a small stove with a pot of stew on top. The man wore a simple brown jacket over a gray shirt and deep brown pants. He seemed to be humming a tune, but Harry couldn't put his finger on the song, which was saying something as Harry always had the radio on when he was cooking or doing chores for his relatives, nobody minded as long as he was the only one who heard the music.

Harry looked beyond the man and saw that much of the boat was dominated by rope, nets, buckets filled with some sort of dark green liquid, an anchor, and folded sails. There was nothing but open sea in front of them. The sky was overcast, but it did not look like it would rain anytime soon.

The man must have noticed that something was moving since he turned his head towards Harry's direction. Harry hid behind the door but did not close it. The man laughed at him.

"No need to hide, I won't hurt you," he said. The man picked up a bowl and poured some of the stew in it. He laid the bowl on a stool beside him, and poured another bowl for himself. He took out two spoons from his pocket, put one on the other bowl and began eating using the other one. Harry hesitated to come any closer, he shouldn't talk to strangers after all. His resolve shattered an hour later when his stomach grumbled loudly, which the man apparently heard.

"You shouldn't let yourself go hungry you know, you die faster that way," he teased. Harry still wouldn't come closer. The man sighed.

"Look, if it makes you feel better, I'm Silver, Long John Silver, and I'm the one who rescued you after you suddenly appeared in front of my boat last night," he said, finally setting down his bowl to look directly at Harry.

That got a reaction out of Harry. He looked at the man carefully. He wore an easy smile that told everyone that he had nothing to hide. His hands were nowhere near his body, which signified that he wasn't about to pull out any weapons. He had one leg, and he seemed trustworthy, but Harry had seen enough television to know better. It wasn't until his stomach grumbled loudly again that he finally relented and took a seat beside Silver.

"There, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" asked Silver. Harry did not reply. Silver watched him eat until Harry's bowl was empty and he was staring longingly at the half-full pot on the stove. As if he had read his mind, Silver wrenched the bowl from his hands, refilled it, and handed it back to him. Harry looked at Silver questioningly, but the man simply smiled and motioned for him to keep eating.

When that bowl was empty too and Harry's stomach was full, Silver talked again.

"You know kid, I haven't gotten your name."

"Harry Potter." Harry stared at Silver for a second before his eyes suddenly widened and he put a hand on his mouth. He hadn't intended to tell him his real name, instead he wanted to go for another name like he had seen in those comics he had salvaged from the trash after Dudley was finished with them. He was talking to a stranger, after all.

_'But,'_ he thought. _'Didn't Number 7 also use his real name all the time? How did he get away with all of the stuff that he did?'_

He was snapped away from his thoughts when he heard Silver chuckling beside him.

"You were going for a secret identity, weren't you?" he asked. Harry nodded, wondering if Silver could read minds.

"No, I can't read minds, your face gives away a lot of what's going on inside your head though."

That didn't convince Harry one bit.

Silver grabbed a crutch and stood up. "Alright Harry," he said. "Here's the plan. I'm going to spend the next three months fishing out in the open sea, so you're going to have to help me while you're here. Once we get to port, we'll go to the local branch of the magic council and we'll see if we can't find out where your parents are. If they can find where you live, I'll hand you over to them and we'll go our separate ways. If not, then I'll give you to a friend who'd be happy to take care of you. Got all that?"

Harry nodded. _'Magic?' _he thought.

"That's good," said Silver. "Now go back to sleep, you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

Harry regarded Silver carefully. He didn't seem too interested in knowing any further detail about him, just that he would eventually be out of one-legged man's hair in three months and that's that. Still, there was one question that had been burning in the back of his mind since he had woken up.

"Mister Silver?"

"Yes?"

"Where are we?"

-Chapter End-

_Book of Magical Beasts_

_Pichu – Pichu are small, mouse-like creatures that inhabit the forests of much of Asia, but are primarily found in the lush jungles of South and Southeast Asia. Pichu are social animals, living in groups of up to twenty individuals each. They mostly herbivorous, their primary diet consisting of fruits, mostly berries. Pichu possess pink sacs on their cheeks that they use to store electricity, which is used both for self-defense and for recreation. By squeezing these cheeks, they can unleash powerful electric shocks that can kill a fully grown human, but are also shocked themselves, so they only use it as a last resort. Pichu are very intelligent, and will hide when they spot danger. Despite their population being estimated to number in the thousands, their intelligence makes them difficult to catch, and hence very few end up in captivity. The one currently in the hands of Lucius Malfoy is the only recorded Pichu in England._

**Author's Note:**

After contemplating long and hard, I have finally decided to rewrite Fairy Warts. The old one just did not live up to my standards. I won't delete it, but consider that story finished as it is.

Please read and review!


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